


Per Aspera Ad Astra

by reozukis



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, brief mention of kagakuro - if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1701686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reozukis/pseuds/reozukis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's in the little things, Aomine has learnt, that Kise's true beauty reveals itself. Sure, he has the face of an angel, and a body carved by gods but there's more, so much more to Kise Ryouta than what first meets the eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Per Aspera Ad Astra

It's in the little things, Aomine realises, that Kise's true beauty reveals itself. Sure, he is an extraordinarily beautiful man, if a little feminine, he's loud and he has the energy of a thousand hyperactive puppies, and although that's a part of Kise, that's not the only part of him that Aomine has learnt to love. In fact, if he was to judge Kise on his beauty, talent and personality alone, he would probably not love him as much as he does. For despite adorable and a breath of fresh air, he could be unbearably exhausting at times, most of the times. ****

So he learnt to observe Kise up close and suck in all the little details that make his heart skip a beat when he least expects. Things so mundane that Aomine could never guess would have such a massive effect over him. But they did, and they do, and the best thing about them is that he's always hoping for them, and somehow he's always surprised when they happen. Pleasantly surprised, mind. Someone like Aomine wasn't easily impressed, and here he is, wondering what's the next detail that'll make him fall in love with this beautiful idiot all over again.

"I just don't understand why he would miss an opportunity like that. All I'm saying is that he should have been honest and... _tell_ him!" Kise pauses his speech to aggressively take a sip of his strawberry milk.

And there it is. Aomine watches earnestly as his pink lips curl tightly around the small straw; his cheeks, rosy with frustration and the heat of their workout, hollow slightly as he sucks in the cool liquid; his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows and then his tongue laps over his lips, wiping a lone bead of milk that lingered behind. Aomine swallows dryly and reaches blindly for his bottle of water.

"Maybe that's how things are done in America, but if he wants to go anywhere with Kurokocchi, then he'll have to be straightforward with him," Kise continues, leaning his head back against the wall. "Right, Aominecchi? Oi, Aominecchi!"

Sighing, he uncaps the bottle of water and brings it up to his lips. One of the first few things one learns about Kise Ryouta is that the man loves the sound of his own voice. Most of their conversations are one-sided and Aomine is quite okay with it, because he can tune Kise off and dedicate his time to watch Kise instead. Sometimes he will throw in a word or a nod, just to keep the pretence that he is actually giving a fuck, but some other times Kise will ask him for an opinion. That's when Aomine has to think a bit harder and put more than one word together and make it sound ambiguous enough to fit any situation, but not random enough to give himself away. He has made a mistake once, and he definitely doesn't want to get through that again. So averting his eyes from Kise's pale neck, Aomine takes a sip of his water to make some time as his brain searches for words.

"How should I know?" He says at last, throwing in a shrug for good measure.

"You should know, Aominecchi! You were the closest one to Kurokocchi! You know how he prefers a direct approach," there's a pout in Kise's lips that Aomine almost misses, but he doesn't, and it's glorious. "Don't you care about it at all?"

"Not really," Aomine quickly answers - far too quickly. "They're big boys, they'll figure a way to get into each other's pants. Stop worrying."

"You're always so crass," Kise sighs and Aomine knows he's given up. Probably for the best, too. Instead, Kise reaches for the basketball. "Do you want to go at it again?"

The absence of enthusiasm in Kise's voice tells Aomine that he's not really into it, so he leans in and pecks Kise's lips before standing up from the cool wooden floor. "Nah, I'm good. We should head home anyway. My mother is coming for dinner, remember? We need to pretend that we can cook stuff."

If Kise has been upset about Aomine's lack of interest in Kuroko's sex life, it all vanishes when he reminds him of his mother's visit. It's something that Aomine will never really understand, Kise's relationship with his mother is... bizarre to say the least. He will even go as far as to bet that she likes the pretty boy more than she does Aomine. Not that he minds much, to be honest. At least they'll entertain each other and leave Aomine in peace and relative quiet during his mother's visits.

"What should we get today? Some Nepalese?" Kise suggests, taking the towel from around his neck and pressing it against his forehead to wipe away the remaining droplets of sweat. "Or some Hungarian?"

"How about pizza?" Aomine stretches his arms above his head and groans when his bones crackle into place. Kise falls quiet, which Aomine doesn't expect. He expected him to call him an insensitive ape and roll his eyes. But peeking towards his boyfriend, Aomine sees Kise's slightly parted lips as his eyes run along the patch of tanned skin showing beneath his t-shirt. He can't stop himself from smirking. "Enjoying the view?"

That seems to break Kise off his spell. "Shut up Aominecchi," he mumbles, throwing his towel into his bag and standing up, his sneakers screeching unpleasantly on the polished floor. "Let's just head home. I need to shower."

It's after a lot of deliberation (on Kise's part) that they decide to order some Thai. Play it safe and familiar - it is an important day, after all, and Kise will make everything he can to not cock it all up. Aomine doesn't follow him to the shower. Instead, he places the dirty laundry in the washer and starts brewing his mother's favourite green tea to drink later during dinner.

He's halfway towards the lounge to start setting the table when Kise's voice travels through the air overcoming the sound of running water and the thickness of their wooden doors and making itself comfortable in Aomine's ears. He pauses for a moment, hip leaning against one of the chairs as he listens to Kise singing in the shower. His heart skips and he brings his hand to his shirt, tugging it lightly when Kise reaches a particularly high note and masters it with unsurprising perfection. It is unfair, he thinks, that someone could be so good at everything, and be a handsome brat as well. Kise can sing, he can model, he can act, he can play basketball better than many pros.

"But you still can't beat me," he says to himself, and it makes him feel better. Because where Kise was cute, Aomine was wild, and cute will never beat wild on the court. Or in bed. Not that there's much difference.

The singing suddenly stops as does the running water and Aomine looks down at the naked table, frowning. Why does his mother have to come, today of all days? Aomine just wants to have dinner, tackle Kise onto the bed and have his sweet merry way with him until they both pass out from exhaustion. Not necessarily in that order, mind.

"Aominecchi, you can go now," Kise calls, walking into the sitting room a towel wrapped around his hips, the other over his head as he towel-dries his hair. "I think our boiler is faulty again. The water was barely lukewarm."

It takes him all his self control not to grab Kise, push him onto the table and snog him senseless. "Put some fucking clothes on," he growls instead, brushing past Kise as he walks into their bedroom, and he can swear for all that is dear, that the bastard smirked at his words. He's pushing his limits, and Aomine will have a blast serving Kise his revenge later.

Half an hour later, the table is set, the tea is made, they're properly bathed and clothed, and they're sitting on the couch, waiting for the food to arrive. There's a football match on the telly, and Kise's eyes are glued to the screen as if he actually gives a damn about the results. In the comfortable silence, Aomine sits back and tilts his head to the side, watching Kise carefully.

"Must you pay more attention to the game than to me?" he halfheartedly protests, reaching out to play with Kise's soft hair. "Kiss me."

"We can't," Kise tilts his head towards the comforting touch, much like a puppy, and Aomine smiles. "Your mum is coming. I don't want her to see us all flushed and red-lipped."

"But I want a kiss."

"No."

"Just a small one?"

"Aominecchi!" Kise turns to face him, and Aomine simply adores the flustered look in his face.

Chuckling, he leans forward and kisses him full on the lips, swallowing Kise's surprised gasp, tasting the cherry-flavoured lip balm, revelling in the softness of his lover's mouth. Then he pulls back again, a smug grin on his lips.

"Did it hurt?" He purrs and granted, Kise's cheeks flush three shades darker. He's so easy to rile up Aomine can't help but want to tease him more. Just as he's about to start again, the door bell rings and his good spirits die away with the sound.

"The food! Oh thank god," Kise breathes, jumping off the couch and nearly tripping over Aomine's outstretched legs. He stumbles towards the door and clears his throat before opening it.

Twisting his body on the sofa, Aomine watches Kise's little ritual. First, he stands very still, then he tries to fix his already perfect hair, then he smoothes the non-existent wrinkles on his shirt, and then plasters his best model-smile on his lips. It's amusing, to say the least, it doesn't matter if the one in the other side is a prince or a beggar; Kise believes that he has to look his best for everyone. Aomine still isn't sure if he likes that or not.

When the door finally opens, Aomine watches in mild surprise as Kise's composure breaks for a moment; his eyes blink and widen just slightly, his smile falters for a millisecond, before he regains control over his features again.

"Aomine-san!" He cheerfully greets, and Aomine nearly falls off the couch. It's at least an hour too soon for her to be here.

"You look handsome as ever, Kise-kun," she flatters him, and Aomine sees her slender arms wrapping around Kise, who shoots him a slightly panicked glance before she pulls back and his smile is bright and pristine as ever. "Where's Daiki?"

"Here," Aomine calls back, waving his arm as he peers at his mother over the couch. "You're early."

"Is that any way to greet your mother, Aomine Daiki? I taught you better than that! Why can't you be a little more like Kise-kun? Would it hurt you to be nice and courteous once in a while? And can you sit straight? Don't come complaining about back ache..."

As the speech goes on and on, Aomine sighs and turns back to the telly, just in time to see one of the players kick the ball straight into the net. Even he has to admit that it was a beautiful goal. The result is currently 3-1 and he's forgotten which team he should be cheering for.

"Aominecchi?"

Looking up, he raises an eyebrow at Kise, who is smiling sheepishly at him as if asking, no, begging for backup.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The food," Kise urges, and Aomine can see the panic bubbling behind golden eyes. Again, it is amusing to see how Kise fusses over the littlest things. So what if his mother finds out that Kise can't cook at all? His striving for approval reaches new and unimaginable proportions when it comes to Aomine's mother. He does understand, though, that at that instant Kise is panicking because he doesn't know what to say, he doesn't have an excuse, and he is slowly shutting down.

"Ah yes. We decided to order out today," Aomine waves his hand leisurely, sinking further into the couch. "We were out playing earlier and we kind of lost track of time. I didn't want Kise to stress, so I told him to order out. Nepalese, isn't it?"

He knows Kise is grateful because when he corrects Aomine his voice is soft, relived, not carrying the heaviness of a bite to it. "Thai."

"Same difference."

"Oh I guess there's no helping it, then. I was looking forward to taste your amazing cooking again, Kise-kun," she's smiling at him and Aomine sees the tinge of guilt in the curl of Kise's lips.

"Maybe next time, Aomine-san. I'm sure that our dinner is almost here, would you like something to drink in the meantime?" Kise is already walking to the kitchen, voice slightly more quiet than it usually is.

Aomine frowns. "I'll help you out," he offers, standing up.

"Not without properly greeting me, you won't."

Women are so demanding. Satsuki is just the same, and Aomine wonders, not for the first time, if his mother still thinks, or rather hopes, that they're dating.

Ah, yes. The eternal arguments about Daiki and his future. Mama Aomine pressing him to find a nice woman and settle down, "You're already in university, Daiki. Don't you think it's about time for you to start looking for a nice young lady?" Mama Aomine asking Kise, of all people, if he has someone special in his life already, "Tell me Kise-kun, because if you don't, I will never know! Tell me that Daiki already found a beautiful young woman to marry." Mama Aomine saying that as convenient as their friendship is, he can't honestly expect to share a flat with his best friend for the rest of his life, "People like to talk, and I won't see my only son be shamed like that. Besides, I'm not getting any younger, Daiki, I'd like to have some grandchildren before I go, you know? Don't make your mother wait."

And Aomine could see how every single word would affect Kise. How the words would slither over to his ears and grasp his heart with sharp iron claws. And every time, he was graceful about it, every time he smiled brightly and replied ambiguously not to lie, but not to expose their relationship. "I believe that Aominecchi just wants to focus on his school work and basketball for now. He's barely reached twenty, after all. Why would he seek a nice woman when he still doesn't have his life organised? Stability is something important in a relationship." And he would go on about how it was much more probable for a woman to take notice of him if he had a job and a stable career, and somehow he would turn a conversation about Aomine's love life into one about cooking or modelling, successfully shutting his mother off. And Aomine was always speechless with the persuasive powers Kise Ryouta possessed. That suave little bastard.

They hadn't been together when they started sharing their flat in their first year of college. The location was relatively close to both their universities and it would come in cheaper if they shared a home instead of paying two separate rents. They had, however, already admitted their feelings towards each other, but never did much to act upon them. It wasn't necessary, they lived in peace, their friendship had been cemented by years of mutual knowledge and past rivalry, a romantic relationship wasn't fundamental. Of course that didn't last long; about three months after they moved in, a drunken one night stand had been the push over the cliff, the crossing of the point of no return. They had grown even closer after that, understandably, more dependent on each other. Midorima had spouted a string of nonsense about how air signs and earth signs were incredibly incompatible, he had gone as far as making them a chart with all the pros and cons (more cons than pros, as it turned out) about their union as 'written in the stars'. The list had been extremely useful to light the fireplace one cold day in late autumn. They are so incompatible, apparently, that two years later here they are, still together, stronger than ever.

The short seconds between her words and his actions seem to pass very slowly, but Aomine stands up and walks over to his mother, hesitating as he opens his arms to take her into an embrace. Despite her pressure over his love life, he respects her, and he knows that learning about Kise and him will greatly disappoint her. She lives for the prospect of a big family, he knows how it hurt her to not have been able to give Aomine any siblings, and it almost saddens him to know that he will not see her dream come true.

"Happy birthday, Daiki," she murmurs against his chest, pulling slightly back to look up at him, a pale, cold hand cupping his cheek. He has to lean down so she can reach his face. "Will you ever stop growing? How much taller do you intend to get?"

He can't help the chuckle that leaves his lips, and shrugs. "They say we only stop growing at twenty-five. Ask me in five years."

"Only yesterday you were just baby," she laughs, patting his cheek and feeling down his arms. "You've been eating well, too. Kise-kun takes good care of you, doesn't he? He's like the big brother I could never give you. I am glad you have him."

Her words make his stomach twist, either in guilt or slight disgust he cannot tell. It is so wrong to think of Kise as his big brother. Not after all the things they've done with each other, _to_ each other. Maybe in the past he would have been able to see him like that, but not now, not anymore. Aomine looks away, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugs again.

"I'm not a child, you know? I can take care of myself," and when he's about to elaborate, the bell rings again and Aomine sighs in relief.

"Aominecchi!" Kise's voice floats from the kitchen and Aomine rolls his eyes.

"Yes, yes, I'm going!"

"My wallet is on my bedside table!"

And Aomine rushes into his bedroom to take Kise's wallet, comes back to open the door and apologises to the delivery girl. He looks at her for a second, decides that he still prefers Horikita Mai, and raises an eyebrow before clearing his throat and handing her the money. She flashes him a flirtatious smile as she hands him the bag and he swears her hips are swaying way more than necessary as she walks away towards the stairs. He's smiling when he closes the door, Kise's wallet now tucked in the back pocket of his camo shorts.

"Daiki-"

"I'll just help Kise with the food and we can have dinner," he tells her as he makes his way to their small kitchen, hesitating for a moment before adding, "Make yourself at home, or whatever."

As soon as he drops the bag with the food on the counter, he wraps his arms around Kise's waist, pressing himself fully against his back, burrowing his nose on his lover's hair and breathing in his sweet fruity scent.

"She's a pain."

"Let go of me, Aominecchi. What if she sees us?" Kise tries to push him away, but Aomine just slumps against him, most of his body weight now supported by Kise's shoulders. "Aominecchi!"

"Stop complaining. What are you doing, anyway? I can't make small talk, I need you in there!"

"I'm preparing dessert," Kise murmurs. "Murasakibaracchi taught it to me, and I wanted to try my hand at it."

"It looks like you're hiding."

"Yes, because I am. But at least I have an excuse to be hiding. You, on the other hand, have food to plate." Kise pauses and turns to Aomine, looking up at him. "It's just dinner. She's your mother. Please bear with it and behave."

There is just no winning when Kise pulls his puppy eyes act, and Aomine leans forward to briefly kiss his lips. "You'll pay for this later."

"Consider it your birthday present," Kise giggles, returning his attention to the dessert he's trying to pull off.

Everything goes smoothly during dinner, Kise makes all the talk, answering Aomine's mother's questions with a graceful smile that Aomine recognises as his media smile - the polite, handsome grin that he uses in interviews and formal social gatherings. It's funny to know that Kise considers his mother's visit as a formal event. She asks him about university, he tells her it's going well, though his area is more difficult than he had first predicted.

"That reminds me, Kise-kun. I never asked, what exactly is your area?"

Kise places his chopsticks on his bowl and wipes his lips with his serviette before replying. "I'm in engineering," he says with a proud grin. Aomine knows how hard he worked to be admitted in his university, he knows how proud Kise is of himself, and he knows how damn proud he is of Kise as well.

His mother, however, sounds surprised. "Oh, is that it?" There is a tone in her voice that Aomine can't quite place yet, but he's not sure he likes it. "That's... well, unexpected."

He definitely doesn't like it.

"Why? He's a clever man, you know? He may not be a genius like Akashi or maybe even Midorima, but when he sets his mind to it, he can do whatever he wants," Aomine says frowning, chopsticks stabbing a piece of meat.

"I'm sure Aomine-san didn't mean it like that, Aominecchi. I would be surprised too, in her place. I mean, I'm not known for my academic glory, after all." Kise tries to soothe, looking at his lover with a small smile.

Why must his mother get on his nerves so much? Why can't she just smile and nod and pretend that she doesn't think Kise is just your average dumb blond? It pisses him off that despite her appreciating the model's presence in his life, she doesn't respect him as much as he deserves. And oh, Kise deserves respect, probably even more than Aomine does.

"I thought you would choose something more... simple," she admits, looking Kise in the eyes and Aomine knows she's testing him. "Something that would relate more to you."

"Well, you see," Kise doesn't even blink as he replies, his voice now growing cold as he speaks ever syllable. "They say one shouldn't judge a book by its cover. I chose engineering because that's the area that is closest to achieve my life goal."

"Which is?"

"I'm going to be a commercial pilot, Aomine-san." The conviction in Kise's voice sends a wave of electric excitement down his spine. Aomine can't help but stare at him as the silence stretches within the four walls of their modest flat.

"That sounds wonderful," Aomine's mother says, the tension lifting slightly as she smiles at Kise. Whatever test she has put him through, Kise seems to have passed it. What Aomine still doesn't understand is why she decided to test Kise in the first place.

The answer comes later during dessert. Kise brushes a single blond hair off Aomine's shoulder as they discuss Aomine's last match for his university. They talk enthusiastically about the sport they both love so much, Kise's hands waving around in his excitement and Aomine laughing at the praises he's getting.

"How long have the two of you been sleeping together, then?"

The question is so unexpectedly nonchalant it takes them both by surprise. Kise's eyes widen, the hand carrying the spoon with his desert stopping in mid air before it could reach his lips, and Aomine's hand clenches into a fist on the table. There's a look in his mother's eyes that Aomine hasn't seen in a very long time. Not since the divorce, at least. It is a look of utter disappointment, a look of disgust.

"I don't think I follow," Aomine says after a moment, willing his hand to relax, gently bumping Kise's knee with his own to bring him back to the present.

"Earlier today," his mother starts, taking a sip of her tea. "When the food arrived, Kise-kun said his wallet was on _his_ bedside table. But you walked into _your_ room to fetch it."

"Your point being?"

"I would like to know why Kise-kun has a bedside table in your room, Daiki."

Kise parts his lips to talk, no doubt trying to brush the whole incident off as a problem of damp in his walls, or a fresh paint job, something that will excuse his presence in Aomine's room for a short period of time. But Aomine beats him to it, leaning forward and meeting his mother's eyes with the same intensity he does those of a rival on the court.

"Kise has much more than a bedside table in our bedroom, mother. Do you want to hear about it?"

"Aominecchi."

"He's got a pillow too and the left side of the bed, the right side of the wardrobe and half of the left are also his, he's got his toothbrush right next to mine in our bathroom," Aomine continues, ignoring Kise's input. "His school books are in the shelf, next to mine, the magazines he's featured in are piled amongst my basketball magazines."

"Aominecchi, _please_."

"His underwear is in the first drawer, his socks, which are organised by colour and season, are in the second, condoms and toys in the third. And his scent is all over our sheets." He pauses, and narrows his eyes. "What I fail to see is how is _that_ any of your business."

"Aominecchi!" Kise stands up and throws his napkin onto the table, hand resting over his stomach as if he's about to get sick.

Aomine breaks the contact between himself and his mother's wide, shocked gaze and leers upwards to face Kise. He can see hazel eyes welling up, he can see his hands shaking, he can see his lip trembling, and in that moment he realises what he has just done. He had been so blinded with anger that he had all but outed them both in the worst way possible. Of course he didn't intend to be in the closet forever, but they had agreed that they would tell their parents during a dinner after university.

This is all wrong.

"Kise," Aomine tries to reach for his hand, but he steps back and brushes his hand away.

"I'm not feeling well," he breathes, clearing his throat, his hair covering half his face as he drops his head. "Thank you for coming, Aomine-san. Now, if you'll excuse me." Kise sucks in a deep shaky breath and starts walking away. He's hardly taken three steps when Aomine's mother finally speaks.

"Tell me, boy," she calls coldly, deep blue eyes burning into the back if his neck, "what are your feelings towards my son?"

"Mother!" Aomine all but growls at her, head turning to look at Kise. He looks so lost and vulnerable that Aomine is shocked into silence. He wants to hold him, to wipe that sad expression from his eyes, to kiss his lips, to make him forget, but at the same time he doesn't know if he will be welcome. He feels like he has betrayed Kise. And his reply is taking so long, Aomine isn't sure it will come at all. After long, painful seconds that seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth and back, Kise's soft, confident voice sounds in the room.

"I can't cook," the model says straightening up and squaring his shoulders before continuing, "aside from onion gratin soup and a few desserts, I can't really cook. I am not naturally smart when it comes to academics, I'm a prodigy at sports and I was blessed with a pretty face. That's about it. But I work hard, I model to pay for my studies, I study to build a future for myself. I do not give up until I get what I want, I do not quit, and every obstacle I face, I face it with determination. I know what I like, I know what I want, and I will fight for it with everything that I have - with everything that _am_. I've been in love with your son for as long as I've known him. I faced battles with him, I faced battles against him, I've lost some - well, more than some, to be honest - and I've won a few, very, very few. I admire him and respect him more than anyone else I know." He turns to face the table and Aomine's lips part as he looks at Kise's face, a tear running down his cheek, his lips turned into a sad smile, but his eyes burning with the certainty of his words. "I love your son more than you will ever understand. And I intend to show him that every single day, until he decides that he wants me no more."

"Kise!"

The door to their bedroom slams closed and the silence that follows is both thick and comforting. Always, when Aomine thinks that Kise can't possibly surprise him more, he magics up a new side that he has never met before, and he feels himself falling in love all over again, hitting the bottom harder and deeper than before.

"Well, that was enlightening."

"Get out," his voice is soft, tired, and he runs a hand through his hair as he looks up at this mother. "You couldn't let it go, could you? You couldn't have just let it go."

"Are you honestly trying to throw your own mother out?" She raises an eyebrow at him and shakes her head. "Funny isn't it? How he said he won't leave and yet he was the first to run away?"

"He's not made of ice and stone, you know? He's not like us. He's Kise. He wears his heart on his sleeve, he lives other people's problems as if they are his own! Just earlier today he was stressing about Tetsu's love life as if he had been the one to be rejected! Can't you understand that? Why must you always..." Aomine stands up and walks over to the door, opening it. "Just leave."

With a sigh, she stands and leisurely slides her coat on before following her son. "You know, Daiki, you will realise sooner or later that you're making a mistake. Just remember that when things go wrong, which they _will_ , you will always have a place to go back to. But when you come, you better not come crying."

It takes him all his self control not to shout at her to just get the fuck out of his face and slam the door shut. Instead, he watches her disappear down the stairs and closes the door with a soft click. Aomine never cared much for his birthday, but that doesn't mean he didn't want his day to be special. Looking at the door to their bedroom, he licks his lips and knocks twice, softly, before opening it and looking inside.

"Kise," he calls, squinting to try to make out Kise's silhouette in the dim room. "You okay?"

"I'm sorry, Aominecchi," he tilts his head towards the sound and sees Kise sitting down on the floor next to the window, back pressing against the cold wall. "I didn't even say goodbye to your mother."

"I kind of threw her out. Saying goodbye would probably defeat the point of that message." Aomine closes the door and takes a seat next to Kise. "Are you all right?" He asks again.

"As all right as I can be," Kise looks at him and lays his head on his shoulder. "I still haven't given you your present."

"I think you already did."

"I don't remember," he snuggles closer to Aomine's neck and reaches out to take his hand.

"You just promised yourself to me in front of my mother. I guess that's a pretty badass present in itself, wouldn't you say?"

He breathes out a relieved sigh when he hears Kise's melodic laughter echoing in their room.

"I did, didn't I? In a scale of one to ten, how much do you think she hates me right now?"

"About twelve."

"Not too bad then."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, Kise rubbing soft circles on the inside of Aomine's wrist with his thumb, Aomine playing idly with Kise's flaxen hair. They remain like that for a while, finding solace and comfort in each other's presence. It is sort of a symbiotic relationship, the one they hold aside from their romance. They are each other's strengths, they are each other's weakness, but they move as one and for one purpose only.

Aomine moves first, pulling Kise close to him, easily sitting him on his lap so he can properly embrace him. They kiss slowly and languidly, fingers threading through silky strands of hair, tongues brushing together, teeth biting, lips marking. There's the taste of salt mingling into the kiss and Aomine pulls back, and presses his lips together, opening eyes he hadn't realised he had closed.

"You're crying."

"I am?" Kise reaches up and smiles, wiping his tears with the sleeves of his t-shirt. Then he breathes out slowly and moves in Aomine's lap, straddling him properly before hiding his face on his neck. "Ah. Sorry. It's been a while since we kissed like this. It makes me feel a little overwhelmed."

"Kise."

"Please, don't," he whispers, hot breath tickling Aomine's neck. "Let me stay like this, Aominecchi. Just for a bit. Please."

And he knows, he just _knows_ that Kise's trying his best to collect himself and not break down. Kise presses sweet kisses along his neck, his long eyelashes tickling his jaw, and Aomine's fingers slide slowly down his sides, skin rising in gooseflesh as Kise's teeth come into play. It's innocent and slow, and Aomine chastises himself for finding it so erotic.

His reprimands die when he feels Kise's fingers running up his chest and undoing the buttons of his dark shirt. His hands shake slightly, but his movements are still fluid. With every inch of exposed skin, Kise's lips are there, kissing the flesh, teeth grazing along his collarbones, the tip of his cold nose brushing his throat. Aomine lets his head lean back against the wall and his hands find home when he lifts Kise's shirt and feels the texture and the warmth of his skin with his fingertips, the sculpted muscles of his stomach, the bumps of his spine. And as Kise manages take off his shirt, they're kissing again, Aomine lifts him up and carries him to bed. Their eyes meet.

"Aominecchi," Kise peers up with heavy-lidded eyes, and that's all Aomine needs to know that his mother was wrong. So wrong. There is no way in _hell_ that he will ever give up this amazing, beautiful human being. "Aominecchi?"

"You're mine," he says quietly, brushing his knuckles over Kise's rosy cheek.

"Mhm, I am," Kise giggles softly and kisses Aomine's fingers. "All yours."

"How? What have I ever done to deserve you?" The words leave his lips before Aomine can stop them, and the slightly shocked expression in Kise's eyes is both wonderful and uncomfortable.

"You hit me with a basketball," Kise says as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Maybe that was it. Maybe it _was_ as simple and obvious as that. "You lit a fire in me after I have long since given up on. You, Aomine Daiki, gave me a reason," Kise's words die down to a whisper and Aomine has to lean in to hear him properly. "You gave me a reason, and then you _became_ the reason, and I wouldn't have it in any other way. Yes, I am yours. Mind, body and soul. So, please, take good care of me."

There is nothing wolfish about Aomine's grin, this time, only pure overflowing raw love. His heart is bursting at the seams and his words don't seem to want to form into coherent phrases. So he does what he does best, and shows Kise exactly how well he intends to take care of him.

Their lovemaking is slow, yet passionate, intimate, it goes beyond the corporeal release, it touches the very depths of each other's souls, like a feather-light caress from hands so warm and tender, soothing the tempest of their fears and replacing it with the quietude of a bond so deep it would be deemed unbreakable. There's nothing else but the touch of their hands, the breathed promises, the quiet voicing of their pleasure echoing silently in the dimly lit room.

When their bodies are properly exhausted and sated, they lie in a tangle of flesh and limbs that doesn't look at all comfortable, but feels right, nonetheless. They exchange whispered words, afraid that anything louder than that will break whatever spell they're under and slap reality right back against their faces. Aomine revels in the sound of Kise's exhausted laughter, even after exerting himself, his voice sounds cheerful and content. Soon, though, the laughter softens into nothing, and he can feel Kise's breath tickling his collarbones.

It's in the little things, Aomine has learnt, that Kise's true beauty reveals itself. Sure, he has the face of an angel, a body carved by gods and a personality that would cheer up the dead, but there's more, so much more to Kise Ryouta than what first meets the eye. Like the way his long lashes flutter just slightly as he sleeps, the way his lips curl up at whatever peaceful dream he's having, the way the yellow lamplight from outside casts a golden aura on his lightly freckled shoulders, how his hair looks soft and shiny even in the darkness. The way his voice sounds when he laughs, or the way he cares about people. But more than that, Aomine has learnt to love the way Kise loves him, so purely, so wholeheartedly.

Through adversity, to the stars.


End file.
